


A Caelo Usque Ad Centrum

by anderswoon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Based after S9, Dark, Hell, M/M, Ruling Hell, Short prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 10:03:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1684373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anderswoon/pseuds/anderswoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester enters Hell, but this time not as its slave, but its ruler...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Caelo Usque Ad Centrum

**Author's Note:**

> Just a super short little prompt via a lovely Anonymous person on Tumblr. This isn't my best, but writing helps me vent, so I did this to cheer myself up more than anything!

Heavy were The Righteous Man’s steps, as he tread over the corpses of the Damned. The carpet of the Convicted groaned beneath the weight of the supremacy that he bore on his shoulders, despite that what remained of his tarnished soul had vanished into the night.

_Dean Winchester. The Righteous Man._

 

      In the bloody clothes that he was reborn in, every step he took seemed to agonise him. Yet, for the first time, he felt no pain. He felt nothing as he saw flashbacks of Earth. He felt nothing as he recalled the house, his home, in Lawrence going up in flames.  He felt nothing as he remembered his brothers touch after the battle with Metatron, how little Sammy had wept and drank, drank, drank, as he tended to his wounds, “I’m gonna fix you up, I promise!” He cried, as the tears from the younger Winchesters face mixed with the sticky blood that trickled down Dean’s face.   

_Dean Winchester. The Righteous Man._

 

      Maybe Crowley was right. For the first time, Dean felt powerful. His heavy heart had finally kick-started itself, and his lungs filled his ribcage, exhaling pride and exuberance. On the outside, he even looked different. The change in him had altered the way he walked. Once bow legged and long-limbed, he stood up straight, with the strength and sturdiness of the oldest oak tree.

_Dean Winchester. The Righteous Man._

 

      He made his way to the end of the tunnel, where he saw not a light, but a darkened smog; a smog that could suffocate a thousand beings. Forcing his limbs to carry him until the end, he shut his darkened eyes, and strode into the smog. He was truly reborn in the eyes of Hell.

Finally blinking, Dean felt taken aback. In place of the twisted gargoyle faces of the cadavers, was a plush, crimson carpet. He looked up. There he was.

“Took you long enough, dear.” Smirked Crowley, scotch in hand, as he towered above from upon an emerald Victorian armchair.

“I was beginning to think you’d bottled it.”

      Dean stood silent. His jaw remained shut. He confidently paced up to where Crowley was sat. Dean stared into Crowleys eyes, the Candy Apple meeting the brown-green Lochs. He flexed his hand, and grabbed Crowley by the collar. With all his might, the newly knighted Knight of Hell flung his King across the room, slamming him against an old – fashioned bookcase. The impact almost rendered Crowley unconscious. He touched his lip. Lifeblood seeped from the gash that had made its new home upon his philtrum. Barely above a whisper, almost as if Dean had heard it telepathically, he could have sworn he heard a faint,

“My prince.”

Crowley stood up, shaking like a newborn foal. He adjusted his Italian silk tie and gave a wry sneer. Dean had already replaced Crowley upon the chair. Only, this was no ordinary chair. This chair was the throne, and upon it, was its rightful King.

“Dean Winchester. The Righteous Man.” Breathed Crowley.     

**Author's Note:**

> If you are reading this, cheers for managing to stick to the end of this awful piece of prose! Also a cheeky note, the concept of Hell that popped into my mind, is that it is paved with the souls of those who have wronged. In my mind, they are essentially the foundation that hold Hell up (or down... Yes, fine bad joke, I know). 
> 
>  
> 
> Further sidenote: The title is a Latin phrase, which translates to: "From Heaven all the way to the centre of the Earth."


End file.
